Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole... and other fun stories.

Let’s be honest, you opened this blog because there was a dirty word in the title. Am I right? I don’t blame you. This is a phrase coined by the greatest man who ever lived on this Earth, my grandpa, AKA "Papa". He’s been gone 20 years but I still hear that phrase run through my head and I say it all the time, “Once an asshole, always an asshole.” Nothing said has ever been so true in my opinion. This might be our family motto.

I have so many memories of my papa; I decided to write about them. I used to go to his house on any given day and just sit in the living room watching The Bear on TV and we wouldn’t even talk. Just being there was enough for me. Sometimes he’d be watching the news and he always made fun of the news lady’s hair. “She needs to fire her hairdresser.” he would say. Or, “She must have just rolled out of bed drunk.” I don’t remember what channel or what news anchor it was but let’s hope that in the last 20 years, she learned how to fix her hair.

A lot of the things my papa taught me have shaped the person I am and the mother I have become. I know that shit happens, and that kids need to be hands on to really learn and to make memories. When I was about twelve years old, Papa built an A-frame target out of plywood and nailed some paint can lids to it. He handed me a shotgun, showed me how to load it and fire, then said “Have fun” and went in the house. He showed me how to use a band saw and a lathe to make cool stuff. He could build or fix anything and he would always let me help.

He was a tow truck driver for 25 years and some of my fondest memories were from hanging out at E&H Garage buying Orange Crush soda in glass bottles out of the vending machine. Orange soda to this day, reminds me of my grandpa and I suddenly smell the grease and dust of the garage. I loved riding in the tow truck too. If papa would get a call in the middle of the night sometimes he would wake me up and ask if I wanted to go. Of course I wanted to go. Are you kidding me? Going to check out a crash in the middle of the night with my papa? Yes! I had seen him flip cars over, talking to the police officers, helping clean up accidents. He even let me hook the cars up and run the gears and levers to pull the cars with. I’ve told my husband several times that we should go see if E&H Garage would sell that red and white truck with my papa’s name carved into the door, but he never takes me seriously. “What in the heck are you going to do with a tow truck?” he would ask. “I don’t know move assholes’ cars two blocks away from where they left them.” That sounded like a good answer to me.

I know that he gave my mom and I our morbid sense of humor. I used to come into the house to find my Cabbage Patch Doll had been hung by the neck with an extension cord in the living room. Papa would tell me that she was so lonely because I left her alone in the house so she killed herself. He used to tell me gruesome stories of some of the accidents he had seen. Once he had to pull a dead body off a steering wheel in order to hook the car to the tow truck. He said the guy’s ribs were hooked to the steering wheel. Ew papa!

Papa is also responsible for my infatuation with some of my favorite foods. He had a junk food drawer that was always filled with Oreos, Mounds, and Almond Joy for his midnight snacks. If I didn’t have kids that would steal all of my snacks, I would have a stocked junk drawer too. Love my Oreos dipped in milk and I always steal the Almond Joy out of my kids’ Halloween candy. It’s my fee for taking them trick or treating. Don’t judge me. Then there is my love for Starbucks which didn’t even exist when my papa was alive. He used to tuck me into his bed in the morning and then go make coffee. He’d make a cup of coffee for me with about half a cup of cream and sugar and bring it to me when it was cold. He invented iced coffee people! Ok, maybe he didn’t invent it, but he did it before Starbucks. That’s all I’m saying. Another snack that I’ve carried with me into momhood is the snack tray. Almost every time I came over, papa made me a plate with sweet gherkins, olives, cheese, crackers and rolled up lunch meat. It’s still my favorite thing to make for my own kids and guests.

Some other fun sayings my papa taught me:

It's better to be pissed off than pissed on.
Here I sit all broken hearted, paid a nickel to shit and only farted.

My papa used to call all us grandkids "Creep" one day he started calling me "Cricket" and I was like "Mom, I've upgraded. I'm not a creep anymore." lol

My papa Jake died of lung cancer in January of 1998, two months before my first child was born. My kids never got to meet him. I make sure they get to experience his personality through me. I take the kids to same coffee shop my papa use to take me to, and buy them a hot cocoa with whipped cream, trick them into eating the decorative parsley on the plate, feed them spoonfulls of sugar and ice cubes, and share a slice of lemon merengue pie. We dunk our Oreos in milk together, garden, build stuff, and love our pets.